Page 100 of Forecheck
Brent spared me a quick glance before returning his eyes to the road. “I like the way you think, Daniels.”
“I’ve always wanted you to fuck me fully clothed,” I admitted. “Something about you needing me so bad that you can’t wait for either of us to get undressed would be really hot.”
Now it was Brent’s turn to shift in his seat, his hand falling to his lap to adjust himself while he drove.
I giggled. “And now you know what you’re doing to me. What you’ve been doing to me since you showed up at my door in that tux with my favorite flowers.”
“How wet are you?”
I shivered, clenching my thighs together. “Very.”
“Show me.”
With no further prompting, I slipped my fingers into the slit of my dress and brushed them across my pussy, holding my hand out for Brent to inspect.
“Fuck, baby,” he said, grabbing my hand and bringing my fingers to his mouth. Once he’d sucked them clean, he said, “So good.”
“You’re unhinged.”
“Only for you,” he said with a wink.
I could only smile back. “The feeling is mutual.”
“How late do we have to stay at this thing, anyway?”
“Someone is eager.”
“To get you naked and lick that pretty pink pussy until you’re screaming my name? Fuck yeah, I am. Always.”
I grabbed his free hand and squeezed, needing to touch him and not allowing myself anything more than this simple, chaste bit of contact.
“We have to stay at least until the auction is over and all the winners are announced,” I said. “Since I helped plan this thing, that’s the best I can do.”
Once we’d pulled into the lot outside the Colony Club, Brent parked and turned to me. “Berk, if I don’t get you home and naked at a halfway decent time, there’s no telling what I might do.”
“Such as?”
He didn’t answer right away, choosing instead to get out of the truck and come around to my side. “Like,” he said, leaning close when he lifted me out and set me down, “pulling you into the first empty room we can find and having my way with you.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see,” he said, his final word on the subject. I gave him a frustrated sigh and took his arm.
Stepping inside the building was like walking into a fairytale. The ballroom was brightly lit with twinkly lights, a red carpetpaving the way to the festivities. White flowers spilled out of centerpieces on each of the fifty tables and out of tall pots placed around the dance floor. On the far side, a long table was laden with the silent auction items.
The live band played an Etta James classic softly, the lead singer’s voice the perfect serene backdrop as people milled around, socializing. Opposite the dance floor, a cash bar was set up.
“This is amazing,” Brent said. “The Warriors’ gala isn’t even this fancy.”
“That’s because hockey players aren’t as snobby as lawyers.”
“I suppose that’s probably true. So what do you want to do first?”
“Drinks, please.”
At the bar, I got caught up in conversation with a few of my classmates and a professor, and Brent wandered off to check out the auction table. As I drained the final drops of my first glass of wine, Brent reappeared at my side, ordering us another round as the lead singer of the band announced dinner would be served momentarily.
The food was delicious, the lemon garlic salmon perfectly prepared and seasoned, with steamed vegetables, quinoa, and crème brûlée for dessert. Conversation at our table flowed smoothly, and no one batted an eye at the fact that my date was a well-known professional athlete. For that, I was immensely grateful.
